


his mind is set to oblivion

by orlesiantitans



Series: Cinderella Phenomenon: Firsts [4]
Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: She had hoped that after all the time they’d been together, and with a ring on her finger, he’d be less afraid of her. Clearly, she’d been mistaken.She sighs, “Fritz, I’ve stayed here before.”A nervous laugh leaves him, “Yes. But that was when you were cursed. You’re… people remember you now. And going into a man’s house, unchaperoned, it might…”Ah. So this is about her reputation.
Relationships: Lucette Riella Britton/Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton
Series: Cinderella Phenomenon: Firsts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1086234
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	his mind is set to oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Lone Wolf" by Elizabeth Tyease Collins (very apt for Fritz/Varg).
> 
> I know that people have been waiting for this one, so enjoy!

“I really shouldn’t be bringing you here without chaperones,” Fritz says as he leads Lucette into the house, glancing nervously over at her. He does that a lot, recently, she’s noticed - nervous glances, fiddling with his sleeve, looking away from her as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s been worse since he proposed to her (and even then, he’d been nervous, shaking so badly that he’d almost dropped the ring twice), and that has not escaped Lucette’s notice either. She’s not entirely certain  _ where _ his fears come from, but she wishes she could assuage them, somehow, and remind him that their being together is not wrong. 

She had hoped that after all the time they’d been together, and with a ring on her finger, he’d be less afraid of her. Clearly, she’d been mistaken. 

She sighs, “Fritz, I’ve stayed here before.”

A nervous laugh leaves him, “Yes. But that was when you were cursed. You’re… people remember you now. And going into a man’s house, unchaperoned, it might…”

_ Ah _ . So this is about her  _ reputation _ . She’s not certain how he thinks it can be any worse - she is, after all, the daughter of a witch who’d terrorised Angielle. Even with her attempts to find out more about her people, even with magic gone, people’s memories are not so short, and terrible actions are not quickly forgotten.

“You don’t need to worry about my reputation. We are chaperoned frequently enough in the palace. Some time alone with you where each brush of me against you does not lead to being jumped on by maids trying to preserve my chastity will be pleasant.”

The sound Fritz makes in response to  _ that _ is curious, as well. It’s vaguely choked, and when she looks up at him his cheeks are flushed and his eyes studiously avoid hers. Instead, he helps her off with her coat and glances around, looking guilty and uncertain all at once. She takes a step closer to him, and places a hand on his cheek. Her ring catches the light, and he takes her hand and presses a kiss to the palm of it, eyes flickering back over to her. 

“I just don’t want to ruin this,” he whispers against her palm. Sometimes, in moments like these, she sees flashes of uncertainty, concern. As though he fears some part of himself - the part that had once manifested as Varg - and wants it gone. But Lucette knows that Fritz tempers that part of himself, that his occasional cockiness is accompanied by gentleness and kindness and a soft heart.

She shakes her head, “You could never.”

Leaning in towards him, she presses her lips to his in a kiss, and Fritz’s hand tightens on her own. But instead of pulling away, his hand moves from resting on hers to her waist, the other going to her hip. He kisses her more deeply than he has before, as if this is the first time he’s  _ allowed _ himself to break the carefully constructed rules of propriety he has to follow, and when her tongue swipes across the seam of his lips the groan  _ (or growl?)  _ that follows seems to vibrate through every cell of her body. He presses in closer to her, until she’s crowded against the wall, and the first noise that leaves her in a surprise squeak at what she feels pressed against her belly. 

Like that, he pulls back and is across the room in seconds. He straightens out his jacket, flushed, and she thinks she sees a bead of sweat at his hairline. But that doesn’t keep her attention for long, because her eyes trail down to what she can see straining against his trousers, and she swallows. She can guess he’s likely embarrassed by her unabashed staring, but she cannot help it - she’s never even seen a man without a  _ shirt _ before, and to see even the outline of his manhood against his trousers is enough to have her curious.

“Princess,” he says after a moment, and she looks up, flushing a dark red herself. He gives her a small, embarrassed smile. “You’re staring.”

Looking away from him as determinedly as she can, Lucette shifts slightly under his gaze. “I cannot  _ help _ it. It’s not as though it can be hidden all that easily, and I’ve never seen -  _ that _ !”

He seems to have puffed up with pride, somewhat, at her words, and though she can see just a hint of cockiness lurking in his eyes when she glances back over, his smile remains gentle. She steps closer to him, and he looks ready to push her back, but Lucette has never been one to give up. She presses her hand over his heart, feels it pulsing rapidly under her palm, like the wings of a little bird. His breathing is heavy, and after a moment of them watching each other, she feels him sag slightly.

“You want to act on it,” he whispers, and Lucette gives a single nod. For a moment, she watches as he engages in battle against  _ himself _ , before finally making a decision. He takes her hand, and leads her upstairs. 

Fritz’s room in his childhood home is bare of personal possessions - as much of the house seems to be. She takes a few steps back until her knees hit the bed and sits down, watching as he removes his sword from his hip, the way his hands awkwardly look for a place to rest without it there before hanging by his sides. They stare at one another for a moment, and when she stands, he swallows. 

“I’ll need help with the laces,” she says, softly. And there are no excuses here - it cannot be claimed that the heat of the moment has taken over, or that they are overwhelmed. This is a calculated decision - Lucette has decided that she will give over her maidenhood, and she is doing so without anything clouding her judgement. 

Fritz pulls off his gloves, and she feels his hands shaking as he fiddles with the thin laces, pulling them loose until he can eventually push the dress from her body. The corset takes even more time, and she regrets that she cannot assist him in his endeavour - she pays very little attention to what her maids do in the morning. Once it is off, however, only a few layers of clothing remain. She moves closer to him, undoes the buttons of his jacket and feels the shift of his muscles underneath the material of his shirt. He helps her take that off, and then focuses again on the layers remaining on her body. Her pantalettes and shift come off with very little difficulty, and she finds herself against the pillows of the bed again, Fritz holding himself above her with one arm. His lips are slick with saliva, and one hand traces down her neck, down the valley of her breasts, and between her legs. 

His movements are not confident, but they are not as unsure as she’d expected. But Fritz has always read her like a book, and he has a few years on her besides - it would not be surprising if he’d had other women before her. His fingers draw tight circles around her nub, and she whimpers against his mouth as he slips fingers inside of her - first one, and then two. It’s uncomfortable, but not painful, and the discomfort goes away quickly when his thumb returns to what his fingers had started. The tension building in her belly is familiar, one of her body’s hidden secrets found under sheets and blankets many years ago, in the privacy of her own bedroom. It should be embarrassing to be feeling it in front of Fritz - but he watches her face intently, his pupils blown wide and lips parted.

She whimpers, “Fritz, I… I…”

And, in a voice she’d never expected to hear from him, he leans into her ear and whispers three words that send her spinning into the abyss. 

“Come for me.”

When she comes back to herself, panting beneath him, Fritz’s eyes are intent on hers, and she can feel his manhood pressed against her through the fabric of his trousers. It gives a twitch of interest and she gasps at  _ that _ sensation against her, still oversensitive. She swallows. 

“It. It was never like that by myself.”

He gives her a wolfish grin, but his eyes are gentle. He pushes some hair back off of her face. 

“So long as you enjoyed it,” he murmurs. “I want to... have you, but… there’s no pressure. Truly. I can take care of myself.”

For a moment, she wonders if she can ask him to finish in front of her, so she can watch him as well. But it occurs to her that she wants to feel him, wants to test if her body can feel like that again. So instead of letting him leave, Lucette undoes the button of his trousers, and starts to tug them down.

It’s not perfect - they get caught midway down his legs, and she watches as Fritz wrestles with them, his already-flushed cheeks growing darker. But eventually he wins his battle against his trousers and moves on top of her. The heavy length of him rests against her, and she can’t help but look at it. Thick, dark, engorged. It looks painful, and when she runs a fingertip across it the gasp that leaves him is  _ almost _ pained. She wraps her hand around it, then, noting that she can’t even touch her middle finger and thumb to one another, and after a moment he takes her wrist. He’s wheezing as though breath is hard to come by, and he shakes his head.

“Princess, you must  _ warn _ me if you intend to touch me like that. You could finish me.”

He stares at her a moment longer before moving the blunt head of him to her entrance, and for a moment, there is silence. And then he starts moving in. 

“Oh  _ fuck.” _

Those are words she  _ never _ thought she’d hear from Fritz, and Lucette almost can’t believe  _ she’s _ the one that brought them on - never mind the look on his face, his slack jaw, head tilted back in pleasure. It burns, slightly, as he enters her, but he takes such care with her, and once he’s inside, his head falls to her neck.

“Feel so good around me, princess. So good around my cock. Could stay inside you all day,” he mutters, and she would gasp at his foul language if not for the fact he moves inside of her, and the curve of him hits her  _ just right _ . She gasps, tightens around him, and one of his hands goes to lift her leg over his waist. “Good. You’re being so good. You’re so  _ tight _ .”

Each movement of him within her strokes that  _ spot _ , and he continues to croon in her ear about how good she feels, how good she is for him, how she’s soaking his cock, and the words alone drive her closer to the edge. She’s never heard such dirty things - she’s never even heard some of the words, though she can guess what he’s talking about. She tilts her head back, and his mouth sucks at her neck, and once again she shatters. 

“Oh. Princess. I’m coming. You’re making me -  _ oh.” _

He finishes inside of her with a groan, and she feels the warm pulses of him filling her up. He lays atop her for a few moments, breathing heavily, and she strokes over his back. Eventually he moves away, turning on his side, fingers on her jaw. She smiles at him, slightly sleepy, and doesn’t miss the way he flushes at her look. 

Snuggling into him, Lucette sighs, “Fritz. I didn’t know you could say such filthy things.”

His heart rate picks up, and he groans, free hand going to cover his face. “I was… well. Needless to say, I was distracted.”

His voice is low, slow, and she loves the way it rolls over her. He’s more relaxed, and he swallows hard.

“I am glad that the wedding is soon. It was unwise of me to finish as I did. If I get you with ch-”

She reaches up, covers his mouth with a finger.

“Fritz. Please, do not ruin the moment by finding something to feel guilty about,” she tells him, propping herself up on an elbow. “I am just fine.”

He looks uncertain, but wisely doesn’t say anything else. She sees protectiveness flash behind his eyes, however - another flash of someone she thought long gone. He nods, and pulls her close to him then.

Soon, they will have to go back to the palace - but in that moment, they have the freedom to live as others do. And so, Lucette lets herself sleep in her lover’s arms. 


End file.
